Long Story Short I Survived Novels & Stories

¶Aiyla PoV¶ ¶But One Of The Big Lessons I have Learned From My Journey Is You Can't Please Everyone, So Don't Try¶ - CHRIs COLfER 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Sometimes in life painful things can teach us lessons that we didn't think we needed to know. same thing happened to me, the painful things, the trauma and abuses I went throughout my life made me strong.. made me a fighter and survivor too! It made me realise the harsh reality of life! Life is not filled with beautiful flowers...it is also filled with thorns and it is upon us how we walk through that thorny path. "Either you give up...which is too cowardice"... "Or you could stand up and fight for what's right for you". After all

Back when he still flinched at my tone. He flinched now. The gun wavered just a fraction. Then he lowered it. Not all the way. Just enough to kick my front tire hard with his shoe slamming into rubber with a dull thud. “Fuck!” he snarled, kicking again. “How? How the fuck did you survive?” I lowered my hands slowly, never breaking eye contact. “Luck,” I said simply. “Fishermen rescued me. Hospital in Naples. I had skin grafts and went through pain. Lots of pain. And a lot of time to think about why my own brother tried to kill me.”

A firece gust of wind during a Gale boee 45-year-old Vittorio Louise's car into a river near Naples, Italy, in 1983. He managed to break a window, climb out and swim to shore, where a tree blew over and killed him. I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!

" 𝑾𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏 𝒖𝒏𝒖𝒔𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝒏𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝑩𝒂𝒅 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔. "

When he was on the run and suffered constant terror, I surfaced once his primary personality went unconscious. I tied the red ribbon around my wrist, grabbed the broken sword, and charged at the lead thug. My arms were as thin as twigs as a five-year-old, and my grip holding the sword shook wildly. The thug's club came down hard and ruthlessly, whistling through the air before slamming into my back. I didn't dodge and took the full hit, which felt like shards of ice stabbing into my bones. I nearly blacked out from the pain, but I used that momentum to throw myself at him and drive the sword into his calf.

She glanced back at Conrad, then at me, biting her lip as she continued groveling. I leisurely took a sip of the red wine in my glass. I couldn't help but wonder—just how long could she keep up this act? Yes, Kelly was acting. Her innocent demeanor was all a facade, and even when she "committed suicide" by jumping off a building in my past life, it was an act. I was on the rooftop, all alone, when I overheard her sweet, almost melodic voice. She was crying, pleading with a man.

I looked at him curiously. "I've only lived here for five years. But, I remember the devastation in the town when they found out. I remember your case. It stuck with me", he explained. I slowly nodded. "No one knows the whole story. Not even me. Sometimes, something happens and triggers a memory that my brain blacked out. There was a lot of screaming and arguing that happened. Many fights that I blacked out during and don't remember", I opened up.

Everything. Every reason I ran. Every reason I broke. But this time— I don’t look away. I don’t shut it out. I let it hit. All of it. And I stay standing. “This is me,” I say. My voice doesn’t break. “This is what I went through.” The memories surge harder. Trying to overwhelm. To crush. To break. “And I survived it.” The pressure cracks. Slightly. “You didn’t win,” he snaps. “I didn’t need to.”

"Even that. Because I survived it. And surviving it taught me I can survive anything. That I'm stronger than I thought. That fear doesn't get to win." "You're remarkable." "I'm just a person who got lucky. Who had help. Who found resources and support and love." "You're more than that. You're someone who took trauma and transformed it. That's rare." "Or desperate. Sometimes I can't tell the difference." "Both. And that's okay." The next day, the shelter story is in the news. "Local Architect Designs Hope for Abuse Survivors." My photo. My story. The building rendering. My phone explodes. Congratulations. Interview requests. People I haven't talked to in years.

Lilly stood and adjusted the bag on her back. "You're right on that. I feel sorry for you for putting up with him for as long as you did especially since I can tell her put you through a lot. I dated a wolf in high school who basically jerked me around up until we graduated. He found his mate, I haven't yet. I just believe it's a matter of time though. Any way if you ever need to talk about it I'm all ears. I know how traumatizing that shit can be." I chuckled.